


Candle in the Window

by Jairissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-30
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairissa/pseuds/Jairissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candle in the Window

The first time Lucius saw a candle burning in Narcissa's window he had been seventeen and attending the most dull dinner party known to the Wizarding world. He had come only because his father had insisted, and Lucius found it prudent to stay on Abraxas' better side whenever possible. He regretted the decision instantly. The Blacks had invited, alongside their own daughters of course, every eligible female within ten years of his own age. The experience of them simpering at him turned his stomach. If he could have escaped without notice he would have, but too many of their eyes remained upon him to risk attempting it.

He had perked up for a moment when the Blacks ordered their youngest daughter to bed. He had expected fireworks. Certainly Bellatrix would have given them, throwing a tantrum that would have been remembered for years in her determination to stay and partake of the entertainment. Andromeda would have been noteworthy in her own right, delaying, glowering and sulking until her parents forced the issue and punished her thoroughly.

Narcissa did none of these things and Lucius was equally disappointed and approving. Instead she stood, smiling magnanimously at the guests as though the entire spectacle had been entirely her idea. "Thank you all for the company this evening, I had a lovely time," she told all assembled. Lucius was startled to hear that her voice was low and throaty rather than the high pitched breathy whinge he was used to.

She left without further comment and the conversation broke into two distinct groups: the adults, who turned towards Druella and Cygnus Black to give their congratulations on such a well raised daughter and the younger girls who immediately launched into a chorus of how stuck up the Black girl was, and weren't they lucky they didn't have to live here with such strict parents?

"What do you think, Lucius?" The one on the right of him asked in an attempt to bring him into the discussion of Narcissa's flaws, brushing her hand over his forearm. Lucius raised his eyebrows, turning a questioning expression on her.

"Think about what?" He asked blankly and the girl snatched her hand back, serving him with a vindictive glare. Smiling to himself, Lucius turned back to his food, the frustration at being stuck here returning with the removal of the potential entertainment. He only just resisted the urge to drop his face into the foul lemon sorbet and hope that he drowned there.

His saving grace was not far away. Once dinner was finished the "adults" retreated to one room, and left the young ones to their own devices. Lucius used this opportunity to escape out the back door, leaving each group to believe that he had joined the other. Instead he went to the gardens, letting the deep breath of fresh air fill his lungs, calming his frustration.

They were pretty enough, he supposed, although he was more used to the sprawling gardens of Malfoy Manor. These ones seemed to have been designed for scent as opposed to beauty and he found himself surrounded by summer jasmine and roses, the smell both teasing and overwhelming.

He saw a flicker of light to his left. For a moment, Lucius thought that he had been caught, but it was only an ornamental pond reflecting a light from one of the windows overlooking the gardens. He followed the glow and found a candle sitting on the windowsill, the breeze wafting through the gardens making it dance. He reached for his wand, expecting that a neglectful house elf had forgotten to extinguish it when he saw a blur of movement and instinctively ducked behind a flowering tree, out of sight.

The blur fluttered again past the window, vanishing and reappearing before abruptly solidified in his view. For one silly moment Lucius thought that he was seeing a ghost. The pale figure with its long, near-white hair was almost transparent in the dim light of the candle. No, not a ghost. It was Narcissa Black, dressed in a short, thin white shift, her long hair down her back.

She leaned forward, resting her arms on the windowsill and Lucius was sure that he had been seen. She gave a whistle and a small brown bird appeared from the tree above his head, gliding to sit by Narcissa's knotted hands.

"There you are," she said reproachfully, shaking her head when the owl hooted mournfully. "No. Don't look at me like that. You know you don't get treats when you go off by yourself. Besides, I saw that mouse you caught last night. You can hunt for your own if you think you've earned them."

The owl hooted again, softer, and nibbled at Narcissa's fingers. The girl in turn smiled gently, and patted the owl's soft fluffy head. "To bed, now," she said so quietly that Lucius could barely hear it, and the owl hopped obediently into the room.

"You've trained it well," Lucius commented loudly as she stepped out from his hiding place. A slight stiffness of the shoulders was the only indication she gave that he had surprised her. "It certainly seemed find of you."

Narcissa shrugged her shoulders regally and Lucius stepped further into the faint light of the garden, which he now realised came solely from the simple white candle that she had burning. The closer he came the more easily he was able to smell the hot vanilla scent of it. "They're easy enough to teach," she said distantly, and Lucius had the distinct feeling that he was being dismissed.

She could try, he supposed, but Lucius was not in the habit of listening to the unspoken instructions of others. "Your parents hosted a lovely event," he lied instead, and even from this distance he could hear her snort. "Just trying to make conversation. There's no need to be sullen about it."

"Yes, because in my backyard while I'm in my nightgown is the appropriate time for an in depth discussion on my parents' entertainment habits," she said and only the faintest hint of a bite in her voice alerted Lucius to the hinted sarcasm. She paused for a moment and sighed, shaking her head. "If you truly wish to talk with me, you could always wait until school resumes and I'm more likely to have my clothes on."

Lucius bowed his head to hide his smile, and to avoid looking more closely at her. Now that he was closer he could see the thin straps of her shift, the shortness of her skirt, and exactly how fine the fabric was. He was sure that she had learned some things from her sisters, and if he continued to look, he would find himself permanently blinded.

"My apologies, Narcissa," he said, backing towards the door he had come through to get to the gardens. "I shall do exactly that."

"Goodnight, Mr Malfoy," she said, her voice barely louder than the warm summer breeze lifting the hem of his robes. As he watched, she leaned down to blow out the candle and as the garden went dark, Lucius saw the faintest hint of mischief on her lips, and triumph in her eyes.

***

The second time Lucius saw a candle alight in Narcissa's window was the night he ended his week-long bachelor party. He had proposed on his last day at school, wanting to stake his claim before he left forever. She still had a year to go, and while he knew that she would remain faithful, he wanted the proof for others to see.

Now, a little more than a year later, he had been dragged to Paris to enjoy a week of alcohol, violence and debauchery. He had partaken happily of the first two, eschewing the last altogether. It had taken this long to find an appropriate time to leave, apparating back here to the garden, expecting to look through Narcissa's darkened window.

Yet there she was, all but her face invisible in the dimming light of the nearly exhausted red candle.

"You're late," she said, amused, and Lucius stumbled forward, tripping over his own two feet in his disorientation. "The candle's almost finished."

"I didn't know I was expected," Lucius replied, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to see what she was wearing behind the cover the darkness provided her. She noticed his intent gaze and stepped back teasingly, shaking her head, blonde hair dancing around her pretty face.

"If you want to see, you'll have to come up here and do it properly," she declared. With that, she was gone from his sight, the window empty. Lucius eyed the side of the house critically. While there were plenty of hand holds, in his present condition he had serious doubts that he would make it even half the way before he fell back down and concussed himself.

Instead he closed his eyes, going for the almost as dangerous option. Concentrating as intently as he could, he apparated himself to Narcissa's bedroom, hoping that the resulting crack would not be heard by the remaining two inhabitants of the house.

He realised, belatedly, that he had never been granted a glimpse of this room. He turned towards a flicker of light and found a mirror, reflecting the burning light of the the candle. Narcissa, however, was not there and he turned slowly around to try to find her.

He didn't have to look far. He found her standing halfway behind him, to his left, a nearly transparent red nightgown highlighting the paleness of her skin. While he stood still, watching her, she reached up to unfasten his heavy outer robes. They fell to the ground, revealing the ridiculous Muggle shirt and pants that he had warn as a prank that evening. She bit back a smile, twiring around so that he could see her back, her face turning back to him as one narrow strap slid from her shoulder.

"Narcissa," he whispered hoarsely, taking an instinctive step backwards. It wasn't in his nature to dent this. In fact he never had, until Narcissa had made it clear her attentions were dependent on a certain ceremony and matching piece of jewellery. Now, scant days before the wedding, he was almost aflame with anticipation of what their wedding night would hold.

"Lucius," she replied mockingly, shrugging until the other strap slivered down her shoulders, leaving them both bare to his greedy stare. He moved towards her, gently pushing the nightgown back into place, his hands lingering just a bit too long against the warmth of her skin.

"Five days," he whispered, hoping to reassure her. "I can wait."

"As you wish," she said, her voice equally as soft, her eyes challenging. She pulled away, moving towards the window as her hands reached up to her chest. Some sort of invisible clasp or zip released itself, the gown falling to the floor in a whisper of fabric, leaving her back naked. Lucius caught his breath as she leaned forward, drawing more attention to the soft curve of her arse. A soft huff of air and the candle was extinguished, leaving the darkness absolute.

He heard a brief rustle as she stepped out of the nightgown, the soft padding of footsteps on carpet and a swish as she pulled the bedclothes over her, then nothing.

"Goodnight Lucius," Narcissa chuckled and Lucius sighed. He undid his own clothes with steady fingers, abandoning them next to hers. He crossed the room with quiet steps, the last of his drunkenness vanishing with the remains of the light.

He slid under the covers, the cool sheets a perfect contrast to the heat of their joined skin. "Good morning, Narcissa," he returned, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it.

***

The last time Lucius Malfoy saw a candle burning in Narcissa's window he was walking slowly towards the house with an aching body and a heavy heart. His clothes were tattered, his hair filthy, his skin mottled with with a thousand cuts and bruises.

Wandless, he eschewed his traditional apparition, climbing desperately to the second floor. The familiar bedroom was empty as he hauled himself inside, but for a trail of blue candles lighting a trail towards the bathroom. As he opened the door he could feel the warmth of the bath, and the matching scent of lilac.

The door closed behind him and Lucius turned to find his wife's warm, welcoming smile.

"Welcome home, my love," she said, her voice a silken promise as she slipped off her ice blue robe and pulled him towards the bath. Apparently ignorant of the dirt, she settled beside him in the overwarm bath, helping to wash the last vestiges of Azkaban away.

"I didn't realise you'd still be waiting for me," he managed, sighing in relief as the stinging of his cuts faded. "I thought you might have run out of candles."

"Then you're a fool," Narcissa said frankly, turning to press a rough kiss to his lips. "It doesn't matter to me how long you've been gone. I'll always be waiting for you."


End file.
